From Blue to Red
by Rjalker
Summary: Nothing made sense anymore. Beverly feared she was losing her mind.


Kareij settled when they were seventeen, when they came out to their parents. Though they had trouble at first understanding what it meant to be bisexual until she explained it to them, they were more than accepting, and it went better than she could have hoped. It turned out that they'd just never known there was a word for it. Though she'd known in her heart that her parents would never do something as terrible as disown her, the fear that they would try to tell her she didn't know what she was talking about had lingered.

Kareij had never doubted them, though, and smiled at her from her shoulder in the form of a large blue parrot. As though a hidden signal had been sent through the air, everyone seemed to suddenly just know that he'd settled.

She received hugs from both her mother and father, their daemons—Her father's a tabby manx named Caeraen, and her mother's African civet named Keirsil—watching proudly as he tested his new wings with wonder.

Her mother, always the enthusiast, helped identify his new shape as a hyacinth macaw while their father—with their permission—started making calls to the rest of the family to tell them the good news. "Beverly and Kareij have settled!" He'd cried into the phone, grinning like a mad man, and prompting the question, "Wait, what do you mean Beverly has settled?"

He then went on to explain to them that she was bisexual, and what it meant. Some of them were surprised, and others weren't. No one had a problem with it, though, and after promising to send pictures as soon as possible, he let Beverly on the phone so she could talk to everyone too.

Everyone congratulated her and Kareij, and told her that they would be sending cards in the mail soon. She'd smiled, and laughed, feeling giddy with relief and joy. So many things could have gone wrong that day, but everything had turned out perfect.

Now, years later, she was praying again the same way she'd done right before getting up the courage to walk into the living room.

Abigail Hobbs lay unconscious, her pale face contrasted by the dark, bruised shadows beneath her eyes. Her daemon, Senteron, a small white marmoset—Mico chrysoleuca, her training told her—was curled against her shoulder, his tail draped across her neck as he slept, as though trying, even in oblivion, to protect her from prying eyes.

If Beverly hadn't already known what had happened to her, it would have been easy to pretend that the girl and her daemon were simply sleeping. It would have been easy to tell herself that everything was going to be fine. Kareij nuzzled his beak against her cheek in comfort, not daring to break the silence that held itself over the hospital room.

Will Graham was asleep on the sofa at the foot of Abigail's bed, his jacked rolled up under his head as a pillow, his daemon—Kali, Panthera pardus, a leopard—curled beside him, her head resting against his stomach, somehow making herself seem smaller than was possible. Standing, her head would have come up to Bev's waist, and it was always a marvel how...different she could make herself seem.

When she was asleep like this, you could almost convince yourself that she couldn't possibly be so large, or her her teeth so sharp or eyes so...predatory.

Beverly blinked, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw the leopard's tawny fur shift into feathers in darker tones of rusty red. For a moment, just a moment, she thought she saw Hannibal Lecter's daemon where Will Graham's slept.

She shook her head, and Kareij shifted his wings nervously. Kali had always been strange, and everyone knew it. In some way they'd never been able to put into words, she could change herself into something she wasn't.

It wasn't that she hadn't settled—she was most definitely a leopard—because she had, but...

But it was like she didn't need to change shape in order to become something else. She'd settled, but it didn't affect her at all. Something in her very essence was constantly shifting and changing.

When she'd first met Will and Kali, they'd been standing in the room of Elise Nichols, his head bowed, his daemon crouched on the floor by his feet.

They'd heard about his daemon's ability to make you see things, and they'd thought they were prepared.

But then they stepped into the room, and stared in confusion. They'd been told his daemon was a leopard. But the animal crouching at his feet was no leopard. It was a marmoset, dark brown with large white ears. Mico humeralifera. A Santarem marmoset.

Then he gasped, as though the air had been torn from his lungs, and turned shakily to look at her. She hadn't even realized she'd spoken.

Like glass shattering, the spell broke, and his daemon wrenched herself to her feet, the image of the marmoset slipping away from her like water off a swan's feathers as she swung her head to stare at them with eyes glowing gold in the darkness.

She'd been shocked, to say the least.

But now there were no more tricks, no more illusions. It was just Will and his daemon, deeply asleep, exhaustion painting lines on their faces, and furrows in their brow.

Footsteps in the hallway behind her, and Kareij raised one talon to his beak to signal the person entering the room to be quiet.

His voice was soft in her ear, a whisper and the soft clacking of his beak, "Hannibal."

She nodded, and turned to look.

Hannibal stood, his arms behind his back, his tweed suit almost entirely immaculate, his eyes locked onto hers, his head tilted the slightest bit to the side. "Hello, Ms. Katz." He whispered, leaning his head forward as though they were sharing a secret, "Have you come to visit Abigail as well?" He straightened, and his gaze landed on the sofa where Will and Kali slept. A smile crept onto his lips, "Or are you here for William?"

His daemon's dark eyes seemed to stare straight through her as they drifted across her face. She didn't even acknowledge Kareij at all

"Both," She whispered back, turning her gaze away from his to look at his daemon instead, "I don't think we've been introduced?" She didn't like the way the owl—a species she didn't immediately recognize—was looking at her.

"I'm Kareij," Her daemon greeted the owl cheerfully, tilting his head to the side in a smile. He was always happy to meet new people, even if the owl seemed a bit strange. They had met stranger, after all.

The owl blinked, her eyes flickering. As though nervous, she shifted from foot to foot on Hannibal's shoulder, and remained silent.

Hannibal's mouth twitched upward into a smile. "Stergata." He said, gesturing smoothly to indicate his daemon, "I'm afraid she isn't much one for conversation. Hasn't been since childhood." He tilted his head to the side, studying her closely. "I used to have a sister, once." He said, "Do you have any siblings, Ms. Katz?"

"Call me Beverly," She corrected automatically, started by his sudden question, "And no, I was an only child." She tilted her head to the side in a mirror of his own expression, "So why are you here?" Kareij was shifting on her shoulder, miffed at being ignored. She nudged her chin against his head soothingly. If Hannibal's daemon didn't want to speak, then there was nothing they could do about that. And it seemed that Hannibal was the sort of person who wasn't comfortable speaking to other people's daemons. Once Will woke up, he'd have someone to talk to.

Hannibal opened his mouth, then paused, as though momentarily confused. "I'm not quite sure." He admitted, turning his head to look at the bed where Abigail lay comatose, "Am I here for her? Entertaining the flickering hope that she might wake, and be well, or..." He looked toward Will, sleeping with his daemon curled around him, "Am I here for Will, so we can share in our grief?"

She bit her lip, and glanced between the two sleepers. Senteron's tail was twitching gently against Abigail's throat, his tiny paws curling against her hair. Will's skin had erupted into goosebumps, and he shivered. Kali shifted slightly, nuzzling her forehead against his arm as though, even in her sleep, she sensed that he was cold.

Bev shrugged, not sure she was even expected to answer. She wasn't much one for the bordering-on-metaphorical talk that so many of her co-workers seemed to speak like a second language.

Hannibal nodded absently, and didn't seem offended by her silence. From behind his back he pulled a tupperware container, and held it up, "I found myself bombarded by unquiet thoughts this morning, and decided that cooking would take my mind off it. I intended this for Will, but there is more than enough, if you would care to humor me." He said, tilting the container to the side so she could see the chunks of meat and vegetables floating in a thick yellow broth. "I can't stand to see good food going uneaten."

She considered it thoughtfully. "Chicken?"

"Ham." He corrected, then, at her disappointed look, raised one eyebrow, "Is there a problem?"

"It's not kosher." She explained, frowning ruefully. Kareij laughed quietly, and nudged her with one talon. He was always trying to get her to challenge what she believed, and the idea that she wasn't allowed to eat pork just because of their family's religion was one of them. She stuck her tongue out at him in response, then remembered that Hannibal Lecter, one of the most esteemed psychiatrists in recent history, was standing right infront of her.

Suddenly feeling nervous, she shifted from foot to foot. "I came here to talk to Will," She admitted, "But, well," She shrugged, "I know he hasn't been getting enough sleep lately, so I don't have the heart to wake him."

Stergata twitched slightly, her claws visibly digging in deeper into Hannibal's shoulder, almost punching straight through the fabric of his suit with the force behind it. Beverly, concerned, wanted to ask if she'd said something wrong, but thought better when Hannibal sighed loudly, irritation crossing his face. Slowly, his daemon released her death grip on his shoulder, and he passed a hand down her feathers.

Beverly and Kareij watched the interaction as though it were something they weren't meant to see. When Hannibal turned his attention back to then, Beverly finally got up the courage to speak. "If you don't mind me asking, what species is she?" She asked. She kept her voice light so they wouldn't take offense. Some people didn't like talking about their daemons, and since Hannibal didn't seem inclined to speak to Kareij, it wasn't very likely that he would be willing to answer her. But it was worth a shot.

She knew it was rude, but she'd never been able to resist her curiosity before, and she wasn't going to start now. There was a reason Price and Zeller were always sing-songing 'curiosity killed the Katz'.

Besides. She tended to talk a lot when she was nervous.

For a moment, Hannibal frowned, looking confused, then brightened slightly. "Ah," he said, "Yes. Your training requires you to recognize species on sight." He tilted his head to the side, smiling slightly again, "By scientific name, if I remember correctly?" His smile turned into a smirk. "What do you think?"

Beverly glanced over at his daemon, who stared back with a dark intensity, claws looking almost purposely relaxed against Hannibal's shoulder. The owl was tensed, her wings trembling as though she were about to launch herself into the air at any moment.

Suddenly feeling sick, Beverly averted her gaze, biting her lip at the fear in Stergata's eyes. Kareij's talons stabbed into her shoulder, his frame trembling in an almost perfect mirror of the other man's daemon.

And suddenly, like fire searing through her veins, hatred flared up within her.

Because Hannibal was still smiling, even as his daemon struggled to regain her composure. It was fear in her inky black eyes. And she was afraid of Beverly and Kareij. And Hannibal thought it was funny. His own daemon's fear and discomfort, and he thought it was funny.

It was insane, but she wanted to sweep Stergata into her arms and run and make sure Hannibal never found her again. For a moment, Kareij almost launched himself from her shoulders, and her hands almost shot themselves out, and she could have sworn she could feel her fingers against those rust-colored feathers.

But then the moment passed, and Hannibal was still smiling at her, and Kareij's talons were gripped firmly into her shoulder, and her hands were shaking as she hid them behind her back.

Why are you doing this? The words rose like a snarl in the back of her throat. Her mouth twitching as she fought to cool the sudden rage boiling in her veins, she clenched her hands into fists at her side and focused on the weight of her daemon on her shoulder to keep her in place.

She wanted nothing more than to tear the smile from Hannibal's face, even if she had to use her nails to do it. In that moment, she hated him more than anything she'd ever known.

And then—just like that—the anger was gone, as swiftly as it had come. As though a weight had been lifted from her mind, she stumbled back a step, her hand reaching out for the wall to steady herself.

The smile was gone from Hannibal's face, the fear gone from his daemon's stance. Instead, both peered with nothing but concern as she regained her balance. When Hannibal spoke, his voice was nothing but confusion and worry. "Are you feeling ill, Beverly?" He asked, lifting one hand slightly as though to place it on her shoulder to steady her, "You've gone pale."

The way he said her name, it was like a threat in and of itself. As though he owned it. The way his voice wrapped itself around the syllables made a chill run down her spine.

Kareij shook himself on her shoulder, and, goosebumps running across the exposed skin of her arms, Beverly backed farther away from Hannibal, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

"I—" The word caught in her throat, and she stumbled back another step. Shock skittered up her arm and straight through her heart when she realized that she'd bumped into the sofa Will was sleeping on, and the electric shock that had jolted through her fingers was from Kali's fur.

Horror spread through her like thorn-covered vines, trapping her in place. Nightmares stretched infront of her eyes. The sensations flashed across her awareness too fast to comprehend. One moment, terror was pounding through her heart, and the next her jaws were around the neck of a dark grey and white bird, crunching down with all of her strength, the organs bursting against her teeth and the blood pooling in her mouth as a the shrieks of a marmoset assaulted her ears.

Then Kali was snarling, and the sound was so loud it felt like it slammed against her chest, and Will was gasping for air as though he'd been drowning, and Kareij had launched himself from her shoulder in terror because Kali was disentangling herself from Will's limbs and her claws left a bloody mark down one of his arms as he struggled into consciousness, and Kali's shape was changing so fast that Beverly didn't even have a chance to comprehend what she was seeing before blinding, white-hot pain stabbed at her head, and forced her to her knees.

Her eyes burning as though she's looked at the sun too long, it felt like the world had suddenly been replaced with something that didn't make any sense. Her mouth opened to scream—

—And then she was still standing, and Kareij was still on her shoulder, and Will and Kali were still deeply asleep.

She hadn't moved an inch.

But there was concern on Hannibal's face, and his daemon was watching them as though expecting her to collapse at any moment.

Her heart pounding in her chest as though she'd run a marathon, Beverly suddenly felt sick to her stomach. As though the sensation was new, and she had only imagined it before.

"I—" The room spun dizzily when she took a step towards the door, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw Abigail Hobbs sit up in a pool of blood out of the corner of her eye.

But the girl was a still as before when she turned quickly to look, almost jostling Kareij from her shoulder with the sudden movement.

Her daemon clutching with drunken claws at her shoulder, his wings struggling to steady them both as the world spun again. "I—"

Hannibal's face swam infront of hers, and the world fell out from beneath her feet.

Nightmares lurked at the edge of her awareness.

Darkness.

Pain.

Terror.

She could have sworn that barely a moment had passed.

When she opened her eyes, she was in another room, and this time she was the one lying in a hospital bed.

The light was dim, and she knew without knowing how that it was night.

Kareij was the first one to move, shivering in cold and struggling to sit up from where he had been lying on his side next to her.

"Bev—What—" His words were muddled, in sharp contrast to how clear her mind felt compared to what it had been before.

"What happened to us?" She whispered, sitting up slowly and pulling him close with her arms as a chill ran over her.

She realized suddenly that her clothes had been replaced with a hospital gown, and her entire body ached.

The pain was muffled, though, as though coming at her from a distance. She turned wary eyes upon the IV drip attached to her right hand.

"What—" It seemed to be the only word her daemon could utter, and her confusion and fear only increased when she noticed how ragged his feathers were.

Gone was the sleek, deep blue that was unique to hyacinth macaws.

Now his feathers were dull, almost verging on grey, and uneven, as though it had been weeks rather than hours since he had last preened them.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hallway, and fear suddenly stole through her as though she'd heard a branch snap in the forest.

Somehow, though, she was able to overcome the fear long enough to call out, her voice suddenly raspy and weak as she realized she hadn't spoken aloud earlier—"Hello?"

For a moment, the footsteps stopped, and then they were moving again, faster than before.

A moment later, and a pair of eyes close to the floor glowed green from the hall.

A taller shadow quickly stepped into the room, revealing a young woman in a nurse's uniform.

Her eyes widened as she spotted Beverly, and she moved closer almost hesitantly, her daemon following in the form of a small, brindle dog.

The other woman didn't seem to know where her voice was, so Beverly was about to ask for herself what had happened to her—

—But then another bout of dizziness swept over her, and her eyes closed of their own accord.

When she opened them again, it was daylight, and she wasn't alone.

Will noticed almost immediately that she was awake, and sat up straighter in the chair her had pulled up beside the bed.

In his lap, the glimpse she thought she'd caught of blue feathers shifted into golden fur, and then Kali was watching her, eyes gentle, leopard once more.

"You're awake." Will said softly, looking into her eyes with worry and concern.

She was taken aback by his sudden change in behaviour, but not enough to stop her voice.

"So are you," She remarked back, raising one eyebrow, trying to keep her voice steady when it felt like she could barely breathe past the dryness of her throat, "How long was I out, anyways?"

She lifted her arms over her head, but found stretching to be difficult when the IV pulled at her hand.

Will's eyes flickered a moment, and Kali lifted her head from his lap to look away, her form seeming to shrink with her demeanour untilBeverly was looking at a dog, head lowered and afraid to meet her eyes.

"You—" Will hesitated, then said softly, "You've been unconscious for two months."

She stared at him, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all…

…But couldn't.

Will's tone was serious, and she realized within a moment that he wasn't lying.

"But—" Kareij was still struggling for words, and Beverly could feel his frustration as though it were her own. "But how? The last thing we remember, we were in Abigail's room. Hannibal—" He broke off suddenly, as something dark seemed to wash over them.

Beverly could still feel the dark eyes of Stergata on her, and shuddered in some emotion she couldn't identify.

Fear? Revulsion? Horror?

It didn't matter. All she knew was that she never wanted to see Hannibal Lecter or his daemon ever again.

Her breathing had grown ragged without her realizing it, and her heart was pounding so quickly in her chest that she couldn't even hear the sound of Will's voice over it.

And suddenly, she was back in Abigail Hobbs' hospital room, and Hannibal's face was swimming infront of her, his daemon's eyes growing to swallow her up in darkness.

Abigail Hobbs was speaking in a voice like death, whispering frantically words too low to be understood, her daemon clutching at her neck as his fur was stained crimson by the unending tide falling from her lips.

On the floor, a sand cat—Felis margarita—shivered, limping and cringing, its fur choked with dirt and darkness.

Then there was a hand on hers, and she was staring at Will's worried face, the ringing of a heart monitor pressing against her ears.

"Beverly?" It was a different voice that spoke, pulling her attention toward the door.

Alana Bloom stood just inside the room, her butterfly daemon perched with slowly fanning wings on her shoulder.

Almost immediately, something about Will's demeanor changed, though for the life of her, Beverly couldn't figure out how.

Without preamble, the other woman stepped into the room, and took the seat across from Will that Beverly hadn't even noticed before that moment.

Kareij began running his beak through his feathers, and Beverly had to resist the urge to comb her fingers through her hair.

Compared to Alana, with her prim suit of deep red and black, she felt out of place.

"How are you?" The words were spoken softly before Beverly could even think of anything to say.

For a moment, she hesitated. Darkness hid behind the calm serenity of the other woman's face, and a chill crept down her skin in unease.

"I don't know." She said finally, shrugging, and feeling the painful ache in her muscles again, "I—the last thing I remember is visiting Abigail. And then I woke up here…last night?" Her words turned into a question almost by themselves as doubt suddenly gnawed at her mind.

Alana's lips tightened, and dread settled in Beverly's stomach.

"Beverly," Alana said softly, one of her hands reaching forward gently to rest over her own in a mirror of the same move Will had pulled before to calm her. Bev's eyes suddenly caught on the other woman's daemon, the almost angry twitch of his antennae. "You went missing six months ago. Witnesses last saw you in Abigail Hobbs' hospital room, and say that you left acting strangely, but denying all help. Is there—" Her voice wavered, and her fingers squeezed Beverly's hand lightly, "Is there anything at all that you remember? Anything you can tell me?"

Beverly stared at her, speechless. "S-six months?" This was insane. This didn't make any sense. Her heart felt like it should have been pounding in her chest, but it was calm, the fear and panic only in her mind. "But Will said I'd been unconscious for two." As though that made things better.

Suddenly light-headed, she reached to pull Kareij closer to her side—

—And frowned in confusion when only one of her hands closed around his feathers.

Kariej suddenly gave a shriek of alarm, and horror flooded through her veins when she looked at her daemon.

He was flapping into the air, staring in frantic horror at the hands she had reached toward him.

Except no.

It was only one.

Nothing remained of her left hand but for a twisted stump that ended at her wrist.

Alana leaned closer, and her hands once more encased Beverly's only one remaining. "Beverly," She said, softly, urgently, her daemon lifting into the air to settle soothingly on Kareij's shoulder, urging him back to the bed, "Beverly, it's alright. Look at me."

Her gaze was torn away from her hand—her missing hand—and back toward Alana as though she weren't even in control of herself. Her breathing had hitched, and, finally, her heart was speeding to the race of her horrified mind.

But Alana's gaze held her firm, and she was able to stop the horror from taking over completely. "What happened to me?" She demanded, her voice barely above a whisper and verging on a sob, "Alana, what—"

And suddenly, darkness clouded her vision, and Hannibal's face swam once more infront of her eyes.

She jerked away from the vision, her breath catching in her throat. "Hannibal." She gasped, wrenching her eyes open, her lungs struggling to draw in air, "He—he did this to me, he—he drugged me, he—he did something."

Her entire body had started to tremble, and she pulled her injured arm to her chest, her hand twitching within Alana's, but unwilling to let go, the warmth grounding her in the present so that it didn't feel like she was going to lose herself in the confusion and impossibilities swirling through her mind like a hurricane.

Kareij pressed himself against her side, the butterfly—Chayvetz, she suddenly remembered his name, Heliconius sapho—still perched lightly on his shoulder, his tiny wings trembling almost worse than she was.

"Keep him away from me," She snarled desperately, wishing for Kali's teeth to bare as her own, wishing that her limbs were not weak and disfigured, her mind not rattled and confused, "He—he did this to us. To Miriam. Locked us underground and messed with our heads and choked us with starlight and piano key—" Her words caught on her tongue as she realized that she didn't know what she was saying.

The words had left her throat before her mind could even comprehend what they meant, and they made no sense at all.

Alana had remained silent, her hand still gripping Beverly's reassuringly, just watching her.

"M—Miriam." Beverly repeated suddenly, her entire body tensing, "Where is she? Did you find her?" Her voice was frantic, her eyes darting around the room in vain as though she expected the woman to appear at any moment, "You found her, right?"

Her desperation and fear only increased when Alana's brow furrowed, confusion and worry in her eyes.

And then another blow to her already confused psyche.

She didn't know anyone named Miriam.

"What…" Desperate confusion and fear dragged at her body and mind, as though the earth wanted to crush her to its core. "I—I don't know what I'm saying." She whispered, tears heating her eyes, "What—what's wrong with me? What did he do to me?"

Alana's eyes were sparkling with unshed water, and she wrapped her hands more securely around Beverly's. "You've been through a lot," She said softly, her eyes and face gentle and so, desperately sad, "Your mind is still trying to come to terms with what happened to you. It—it's going to take some time, Beverly."

Her words meant nothing, and yet they calmed her.

But her worries still swirled in her mind, refusing to let her go in peace. Miriam, Miriam, Miriam.

"Miriam Lass." She murmured, flashes of a woman with skin caked with dirt and wide eyes staring out of the darkness blurring before her eyes, "I—I was being held with Miriam Lass." She whispered, struggling to hold onto the image as horror began to crawl across her skin.

Then pain slashed across her wrist, and she flinched away, her breathing unsteady and her heart pounding all over again as fear began to overtake her once more. The room blurred infront of her eyes, and the warmth of Alana's hands disappeared.

The dank smell of the underground assaulted her senses, and pressed against her skin with clammy, ghostly breaths of cold, stale air. Water curled against her bare feet and cold legs, and voices came from somewhere above in the darkness, muffled and almost lost in the silence that crowded her ears.

Pain throbbed in the wrist she clutched to her chest, her daemon curled against it, offering what warmth his shivering feathers could give.

She didn't know how long she'd been in the darkness, but it felt like ages had passed. Her thoughts spun in dizzying circles in her head, repeating the same thing over and over and over again. Hannibal did this. Hannibal did this. Hannibal did this.

Her stomach ached with hunger, and she shivered in the endless darkness.

At the edge of her awareness, she could feel Alana's voice pressing against her ears, but it was only when a feather-light weight settled on her injured hand that the real world started to fade back into existence.

Her mind struggled to keep up with everything that was happening, but the pristine walls of her hospital room kept being overshadowed with concrete walls stained with water.

Dizziness and nausea assaulted her, and if was with relief that she opened her eyes to find herself lying back down against the pillows of the bed, too weak to remain sitting.

Exhaustion was crawling up her limbs with heavy claws, and she was powerless to stop her eyes from falling shut as nothingness wrapped her in its arms.

But Alana's hands still held hers, and the tickling weight of the butterfly against her skin stopped her from drifting away and getting lost in nightmares of reality.

This time, she was aware of time's passage, and the fear that she would awake to find her life had passed her by slowly faded into the background as she succumbed completely to the sleep her body desperately needed.

On some level, she was aware of the sedative that flowed through her veins, and the sound of voices raised just at the edge of her awareness. But by then, she was too far fine to care, and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
